


Deus Ex Machina: Babysitting version

by Jorie2127 (dsha801)



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Archangels, Archangels as kids, Balthazar as a heavenly maid, Chuck is God, F/M, Fluff and Angst, Gen, Kid Fic, M/M, Motherly behavior, Panic Attacks, Post-Season/Series 06 AU, Protective Michael, Season/Series 06, Slow Build, Some Humor, dean as nanny, supernatural books
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-04-14
Updated: 2016-04-23
Packaged: 2018-06-02 07:17:21
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 21,722
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6556978
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dsha801/pseuds/Jorie2127
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Oh, yes. That was why I wanted to talk to you in the first place.” Chuck smiled. “Could you do me a favor?"<br/>It sucked, but it was Chuck/God who was asking. Could he refuse without ending dead? "I don’t like where this is going, but… Okay?"<br/>"Perfect! I want you to take care of my four archangels."</p><p>In other words, God (aka Chuck) finally returns to Heaven to help the angels just after the boys convinced Cas to stop his deal with Crowley. All must be good for them then, right? Well, it is if you don't count the archangels, who are now humans, that Chuck keeps dumping on them. Now Sam and Dean have kids to babysit. But hey, at least they've got Balthazar as their heavenly maid.<br/>(A re-written version of the original)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> My english is far better than it was when I posted this the first time around, so I'm re-posting the new version. I'll upload a chapter every day (From Monday to Friday only; give me the weekends off at least) until I reach the last publication. So enjoy!  
> Comments, kudos and everything else are greatly appreciated :D

**Arc I: Who is like God**

**Prologue**

 

Dean always thought hunters sleep in a weird way, with one eye closed and the other open, for a lack of a better term. When he was young, he remembered moving close to his dad to wake him up, but it was as if he could sense his presence and that was enough to make him wake up ready, hand already in whatever weapon that was close. The truth wasn’t as fantastic as that but now that he was old and more experienced, he realized how his theories came pretty close from reality.

Hunters don't have a sixth sense, though some like to call it that.

The thing was, when one was used to danger, battles and ill intent being thrown in daily basis as if it were nothing (and in most cases, it was truly nothing), your subconscious evolved in a way that could recognize their surroundings without trouble. The brain knew the feeling of battle and that was where half of reflexes came from: experience; the other half being brought by old, plain training.

Then one could refine that reflex as to not make it show. And Dean refined his. He could wake up and the only thing showing his state would be the change in his heartbeat. His respiration and movements would stay the same.

That was why it was weird to ‘wake up’ like a civilian only to see nothing, literally nothing.

He blinked a few times, vision dizzy and overwhelmed by the top bright light of everything around him. It hurt and he could felt his eyes watering. After the pain passed and it didn’t hurt too much, he still couldn’t discern anything, barely aware that he was lying on something or maybe standing against something? The floor (if it was one) wasn’t entirely solid so he didn’t know what was up or down, right or left; all he could see was white. Even his clothes were white. He looked down and was surprised to see his bare feet greeting him.

Like, seriously?

He tried to remember what had happened before waking up in that empty room, but failed. Well, not exactly. He recalled having gone to sleep in one of Bobby’s spare rooms after drinking a few beers, but nothing came after that.

Looking around at the emptiness that surrounded him, Dean took a guess of what was the ground and sat up. The place didn't seem like Heaven. There weren’t memories, or a road to follow just... whiteness.

There wasn’t pain either so it definitely wasn't Hell, either.

Was he dead? _Again_?

Dean really hoped that wasn’t the case because he'd be totally screwed. Now angels wouldn't bother to resurrect him even if Cas helped. Not that he would ask, his dorky angel was too busy trying to find a way to stop Raphael and his angel buddies already were doubting his alliances with them. Dean was sure he would find a way (or so he hoped) so until then, he could wait.  

Sighing, Dean stood up. He trusted his friend even if he’d been seeing him fewer times lately; he knew Cas would find a way to help him after Sam told him he went missing (or dead). He probably was lucky they weren't that much worthy for demons either so Sam wouldn’t even try to deal with them.

So resurrection was off the table.

Not that he wanted it to happen too much, though. He was sure he and his brother could make this resurrection thing a Guinness record for the many times they had pulled it off. He didn’t think any other human had been that close to death as frequently as the Winchesters.

“ **That’s true** ,” a familiar, though slightly echoing voice said from behind. Dean jumped, startled. He turned quickly, already on the defensive, to see a smiling Chuck standing a few feet away from him. “ **Hello, Dean**.”

Dean’s brain stopped all thought. He could picture himself clearly as Sam’s old laptop when he had more than ten windows open and the screen froze.

He rebooted his brain and narrowed his eyes in suspicion as he took a step back, in an attempt to see the truth behind the trick. Something was off and he was sure as Hell of that. The Chuck standing in front of him looked way too calm from the one he remembered. The nervous slouch he had gotten used to always see in the man weren’t in his posture anymore. His back wasn’t even hunched. Instead, he exuded a blinding confidence, something that made Dean want to accept that everything will go fine. That it was okay to just follow him.

His brain, something deep inside him that was stronger than instinct and everything else primitive, screamed that Chuck was so high on food chain it wasn’t funny.

But it also told him that Chuck would know what to do, that everything would be fine if Dean just…

He shook his head in an attempt to clear it; he needed to think. He hadn’t heard of Chuck since that call when he told them about Stull Cemetery, the final battle. He also remembered calling him after all the apocalypse fiasco was over, remembering that the man wanted desperately to escape away from all that craziness, wanting just some normal in his life.

No one answered the phone those times. The calls didn’t even go through.

At the moment, he thought Chuck didn’t want anything to do with him now that he could be free from angels. And Dean couldn’t blame the man, because he would have done the same. Heck, he did the same. Pot calling kettle and all that. So he stopped calling.

Maybe he shouldn’t have done that. Maybe something happened. He should have reached for him even if just to see if he was okay because something clearly wasn’t okay now. They had known about the man for months and, well... people didn’t change that much, right?

Apparently Dean had spent a long time glaring at Chuck, immersed too deep in his own thoughts that it wasn’t until the ex-prophet called his name that he blinked. Chuck was smiling in a way that made him think his own expressions told too much to his liking. But he was now fidgeting slightly on his feet, his voice lacking of that powerful tone from before and right them he looked exactly like the man he remembered. For some reason that, plus the small nervous smile on his face, was enough to convince him that he was the real Chuck.

It just felt right. Actually, everything was feeling right.

Dean started walking towards him.

"Hey! Where were you, man? I thought you were dead!” he stopped, his smile falling a little as he recalled his previous thought. “Wait, I am dead, right?"

Chuck’s smile broadened. "No. You're not dead, Dean"

"Good. No offense, pal. But I prefer seventy-two virgins at this—” He looked around, his hand moving to feature but there was nothing to point. “—whiteness as my piece of heaven. If I go to heaven that is."

"Don't worry, Dean. I’ll make sure that you’ve a really nice Heaven when you die."

"Right...” He eyed him suspiciously, not quite understanding the meaning of his words. “So you know where we are?"

"This is a place between earth and Heaven. Some of you call it Limb.” Chuck finally looked around, something sad in his eyes. “I brought you here because I wanted to have a little chat with you and here I can regenerate my... 'mojo', as you would call it, easier than in other  realms."

There was a small, worried, smile on Chuck’s lips when he turned to see him. He walked slowly towards him, leaving just a few steps between them. There was something in his eyes, too, that reminded him of Death’s.

There was click in Dean's brain as he placed the pieces together and he just... knew it.

"You’ve got to be kidding me. _You_ are God?!" he shouted, rage numbing his mind as he started to hear his heartbeat in his ears.

Chuck— No. _God_ made a little shrug and with a sheepish smile added "Uh, well... Yes, some people call me that.”

"But you were there the whole time! The whole frigging time! And you could have stopped it all!”

"But—"

"The whole Apocalypse! Hell, you probably knew about Sam's soul and the civil war in heaven!” Dean took a deep breath through his nose and with a finger he pointed at the other’s chest. “You knew how long Cas has been looking for you and you were there! Under his frigging nose! Fucking selfish bast—"

Dean spat blood the exact moment his hand was a few inches away to punch Chuck. He fell to his knees, feeling them weak. He turned his glare from the floor to God with wide, angry eyes just in time to see him move close. Dean shrunk back unconsciously, but the hand was already reaching for his face to heal him.

"I'm sorry, Dean,” he said, a hint of panic in his tone. “It's difficult to control my powers while I'm trying to adjust them to me and my grace just tried to protect me from your fist involuntarily”

"What are you talking about?” He stood up, stepping back and cleaning the blood from his lower lip. The pain was gone, there was warmth surrounding him instead. “How is that _You_ can't control your own mojo?"

He spat some blood on his right side and watched how it disappeared from the white floor in an instant.

"Well, I actually didn't know I was God until I was writing 'Swan Song'."

When He noticed the confused expression Dean was giving Him, He added quickly, "You know, the final battle in the cemetery."

Dean stayed quiet for a few seconds, his eyebrows slowly rising.

"Aren't you supposed to know everything and all that crap?” Dean rubbed his face with a hand. “Why did you let the Apocalypse in the first place? And don't give me the 'God works in mysterious ways' bullshit, because Sam and I were trying to clean up all your crap while you were MIA. We deserve the truth."

Chuck’s brows wrinkled at Dean’s tone for a second. "I know. I even deserve that punch. You and your brother have suffered a lot because of me." Chuck let a heavy sigh. "But if you really want me to tell you, I’ll need to start from the beginning."

"Well, shoot then," Dean said, not realizing of the look Chuck was sending him, the one of an exasperated parent looking at a child. When he noticed, Dean was reminded that this was God. He could smite him with a thought and erase him from everyone's memories with a snap of fingers.

"I wouldn't do that, Dean."

And _of course_ He could read his thoughts.

There was a ghost of a smile on God’s lips that quickly disappeared as he started talking.

"I think I need to start by telling you why I made earth in the first place, though it’s also important for you to understand that I love all my creations: animals, plants, my angels, everything. Every time I created something new I loved it like the rest. And I still love them so much.” And Dean didn’t deny it. It was weird, but he could feel it. “It was really easy when there were only a few thousands of them. I could and liked to talk to everyone. I even played with my four archangels when they were just fledglings. But, well, then I made the first humans and… Everything went out of control.”

His smile faded a little, his eyes glazed, lost themselves in memories.

“Uhm. What?”

Chuck shook his head. “Don’t get me wrong, I love humans. I always wanted to make something different and I used my grace to create you as I did with my archangels, but it was different. Less of me and more of something Else, so you could be your Own. I tried and, well, actually, humans were more of an accident. A _happy_ accident, of course.”

“Great, this could fit perfectly on a drama. At least we’re not adopted, right, Dad?” Dean mocked, but Chuck was lost in His thoughts again as he gently moved his right hand in front of him, a tiny light appearing from the tip of his fingers.

“There was a spark of awareness in the first soul I created. It was naïve, small, child-like, really stupid, but incredibly curious.” Chuck smiled when the flame flickered, different colors forming. “And it was aware, intelligent. It was something new. The most beautiful thing I've ever seen, I've ever made. It learnt quickly and I watched fascinated everything it did, every choice it made. Yes, a very happy accident, indeed.”

Chuck looked up at him. “You see, everything I created loved me, because I made them that way." When he saw the expression on Dean’s face, Chuck quickly added, "Yes, I know. A little selfish. But I was young and it didn’t mattered how I had made them because the love between each other was so strong and beautiful. Stronger than the love they had for me or I had for any of my creations, stronger than any love ever existed. Free Will wasn’t my creation, it was yours all along...And I wanted to see more of it.

“In that moment it seemed like a great idea to fill a planet with it. I created the first angels so they could help me to protect and look after all my creations, but the ones that came after those were created with the purpose of protecting you and watching you so that way with a few right atoms and the correct help you could evolve and become what you are now."

Dean was trying to process the information he just received. "Wait. You created the angels just to be your assistants? What about Lucifer, he was made before us, right?"

"I made the other angels for that reason, yes. And my four archangels were created before you, and their job was to protect everything. In that moment I didn't realize Lucifer’s growing hatred towards you, or that he was even able of Free Will. He was jealous that I kept calling you my ‘best creation’ when all his life he had been the most beautiful of all. For him you were imperfect, with the potential to do bad and so underneath him. He used the fact that I treated them as tools compared to humans to get followers, saying that angels deserved better treatment, that they were also sentient beings and didn’t deserve to vow to inferiors—only to Me. And I was so obsessed with your type that didn't realize angels were harboring their own personalities and sentiments too”

Dean snorted. “That sounds like ol’ Luci, alright. Though I don’t see other angels going after— okay, yeah, I can picture it.”

“Lucifer is really charismatic,” he said, sitting next to Dean while rubbing his brow with a tired expression. “I was so angry with his behavior towards you that I cast him out of heaven.”

"He deserved it. But as much as I hate to say it, he was right in something: Angels are not tools. Most of them are douches though, I give you that.”

"I know.” Chuck’s lips quirked up. “Although I realized that too late. I thought I just made tools, even most of them thought of themselves that way. I forgot that I made all my creations capable of evolving. While for you it seems easy to make a choice and understand feelings, for them it's not; they are also children. I wanted them to grow up and be wise, but I knew they would never grow up if they still waited for my orders and approval.” He looked at him. “So I made a plan to give them the choice over their future."

"By leaving?" Dean asked in disbelief.

"That was part of the plan, yes. You, the righteous man, and your brother, the Boy King, were also part of it."

"Wait. So I was really on the chessboard all this time without knowing? None of the choices I've made were mine?” He frowned, trying to erase the anger boiling inside his gut. He tried to ignore it so hard and yet the panic kept rising clearly in his eyes while he felt lost.

Maybe he couldn't stop anything because he was just following a script?

He just turned his gaze to Chuck when a hand touched lightly his arm, giving Dean a smile full of understanding that wasn't anything like Chuck’s but it still felt right in him.

“Okay, maybe I can live with that. But if it was that way couldn't you help a little, at least?"

Chuck shook his head.

"The point of this was for you and them to learn to make their own choices and accept the consequences of it. You and Sam did it perfectly, Dean. Team Free Will, remember? There has been no script, no big plan since I left. 'The one who started is the one who will finish it', that was the only truth."

"It doesn’t make it right though. How could you watch all the pain and sacrifices the angels made in your name and stay hidden?"

"I couldn't.” Chuck smiled sadly. “That's why I hid my grace and made myself human, Dean. I resurrected every time as a prophet so that I would know when your story began. I would only remember who I really was the moment the battle between Michael and Lucifer came or when I died, because I talked to Death. That’s why I couldn't help."

“But you’re God,” Dean insisted, trying to swallow the lump that formed. “The world ain't supposed to end or something without you?”

“God it’s not only me, Dean. It’s my Children, my creations; my grace. I’m always there in everything. Even inside you.”

“Yeah, that’s what they say in church or something. I didn’t know it was the real deal.” The hunter sighed. “And what about all the things that happened after the Apocalypse? There is a civil war and a lot of your little angels die every day because one of your firsts is planning to kill us all, _again_."

God shifted on his invisible seat, a movement so Chuck. "Well, I got used to the human life and I had faith in my children; I thought they just needed some time."

Dean’s jaw went slack and for a second he had a flashback of an angel trying to just have his fun while evading his responsibilities until they were gone.

"Huh, you’re truly Gabriel’s father. I see where he got it because he also thought everything was going to solve by itself too."

"I resurrected Castiel. I hard hope the others angels would realize that I believed in his actions and approved them."

"And it worked so well, didn't it?"

"After Raphael's announcement I realized that my children needed perhaps some guide. And don't get me wrong, I will resurrect everyone who died and all my angels will be with me again. I just wanted them to learn from their mistakes."

Dean frowned. Chuck had emphasized a little too much the word ‘all’.

"All of them? Even… Lucifer?"

"Oh, yes. That was why I wanted to talk to you in the first place.” Chuck smiled. “Could you do me a favor?"

It sucked, but it was Chuck/God who was asking. Could he refuse without ending dead? "I don’t like where this is going, but… Okay?"

"Perfect! I want you to take care of my four archangels."

He frowned, waiting to hear the punchline phrase, but it didn’t come.

"Wait, what? How am I gonna take care of four archangels? I don't think I could take care of one without dying. And we still have the Purgatory problem, Chuck. I think Crowley wants open it, not caring that he doesn’t have Cas's help anymore."

"Don't worry about that.” Chuck made a vague hand motion. “I will make sure the doors stay closed. And besides, you won’t die that easily. Death likes you, so."

" _Death_ likes me?"

He didn't know if that was funny or terrifying, or maybe a little of both.

"Yes, he finds your attitude towards him amusing. You indeed are refreshing to powerful beings, it's different from the usual behavior we often receive. Or well, some of them. Others maybe would want to smite you for being insolent."

"Hey!"

"See?" God smiled. Dean couldn’t help but to cross his arms over his chest.

"Ok, anyways. Even if... Death likes me. They’re still archangels."

"They will not remember anything, nor will they have their grace, so don’t worry. I want them to learn about humanity and what better way than by being human?"

"Gabriel too? He helped us in the end and he already knows a lot about humans. He even liked us, I think."

Chuck’s smile widened slightly at the comment but he continued talking. "Oh, yes. I want him to learn some humility and to not depend always on his powers. I will be a little busy with Heaven, to make it ready for the time Michael takes my place again and Gabriel can be a little..."

"Annoying? Frustrating? Infuriating?"

"Difficult,” Chuck finished but Dean wasn’t hearing, he was already thinking in a good way to have his vengeance from all those times Gabriel killed him.

"Well it will be a great excuse to make fun of him when he annoys me in the future." Dean shrugged easily, calm until he remembered what Chuck had said. "Michael will take command again? Are you sure? That didn't end so well the last time."

"I think you don't know how they really are, yet. Having been through so many battles and having seen so much suffering turned them into what they are now, made them forget about some important things. But I trust you and I know you will do a great job. I'm already proud of you and Sam, Dean."

"Thanks, I think." Dean rubbed the back of his neck, feeling a little embarrassed at being praised by God. "So, uh. When will you take them to return their memories and powers?"

"Their memories will come in pieces. And I will know when they are ready to receive their grace again, but if I think one of them is ready before all their memory is back, I will then return it all together."

Dean sighed tiredly. "So I need to tell Bobby to prepare four rooms?"

"Well, I will not give you the four of them together. They will come to you in the same order I created them."

"Really, Why? Not that I prefer the four in an instant pack than one by one, but..” he trailed off. This was the first time Dean noticed the bags under Chuck’s eyes, making him look far older than his body was, though probably not as older as he really was.

"It's harder to control an archangel’s power. They have more than a normal angel and as they are one of my first creations they are a little different. And I'm weak, Dean. I striped my own grace like Annael did. The difference is that I have a lot more power than her and is more difficult to regain my energy without problems.” Chuck rubbed his face with a hand. “In order not create conflicts in the world I hid it in a lot of places. My grace, even just a little, can distort the status quo of nature."

"Then why did you hide it on earth?"

"In case I needed to return, remember that I a human.” Chuck looked away. “Well, fortunately, I earned some money with the books and could buy flight tickets to go to some of the places I hid my grace, but it seems that pollution and humans had tainted it with the years, and that's why I'm here on Limbo to clean it.”

“Right. How the Hell I’m on Limbo again?”

“I brought your soul here.”

Dean shook his head. "My soul? Dude, I didn't sign for this."

"You're going to be fine, Dean. I promise"

_Well, He was God after all. If someone knew how to do it, it'd be Him._

"So, does this mean that you have all your juice now?"

"No, I don't."

_Just great._

"I think I didn't hear right? Are you sure angels will obey you after leaving for a long time and then just return with not all your powers?"

"I have enough.” Dean could feel clearly the power lingering in the air with his words. Show off. “If I want that retirement after all this is done it'll be easier with not all my grace. It's difficult to strip the amount of power I have, you know. It caused the Flood the last time."

Dean blinked. Yeah, he better don’t dwell on that. He ran a hand through his face. "And what happens with the grace that you’ve still hidden? What if someone decides to use it against you?"

"I’m the only one that can use my grace. Don't worry, Dean. I have enough to carry my four archangels' grace when they turn human.” 

"Uh, okay. But how am I gonna take care of them? I will still hunt y'know. Maybe Sam and I can work part-time, because they're going to be totally human, right? I can’t ask too much of Bobby as much I know he’ll do everything to help and food, clothes...." He was already trying to calculate how much he would need to work between hunts, because buying things for God’s archangels with false credit cards? Totally no, he'd probably go to Hell for that.

There was a place in Bobby's town where he could work as a mechanic and when the ex-angels learnt how to act like real humans maybe they could get a job too. They needed the full ride in 'how to be a normal human being' and work is part of that. Maybe Gabriel already had some experience. He was working as a janitor that time they first met, right?

“Dean, they are my children. It's fine on my part to give you some alimony. And I already know how much Gabriel will cost, so..."

"Yeah, about that. I don't think giving him so much candy would be wise."

"Try telling him that" God chuckled. "Good luck, Dean"

He was starting to feel the warmth he hadn’t notice it was there, surrounding his body, leaving slowly as he started to fall. Chuck gave him a light squeeze on his arm as coldness engulfed him.

"I will contact you soon," he said, moving his hand away.

Dean was struggling desperately around, trying to grab the hand again. He didn’t want that warmth to go away, it reminded him of his mother’s hugs. But that wasn’t possible. The white light hurt his eyes too much and his arms felt icy, numb; he couldn’t move the anymore.

He wanted to scream but before he noticed what was happening his mind was already falling asleep.

 

 


	2. Chapter 2

**Arc I: Who is like God**

**Chapter 1**

 

When Dean woke up in one of the spare rooms of Bobby's, he didn't know what to think. Was it real? Did God-Chuck really existed or had he drank too many beers yesterday? A quick check up on his body told him there wasn't any lingering hungover so that was off the table. He should probably dwell more on that weird dream he just had, but…

Well, right now he really didn’t care about anything concerning babysitting. He was really hungry and he wasn't going to think about some favor he might have accepted until he was full.

Already dressed with fresh clothes, Dean headed downstairs to have a nice breakfast. He felt in a surprisingly good mood that morning, light; the aches of the previous hunt completely gone.

He grinned at his brother after seeing him already sitting in one of the kitchen’s chairs, a cup of coffee between his hands and a newspaper resting in front of him. He could also hear Bobby talking to someone on one of the phones, probably rolling his eyes at the stupidity of hunters.

"Morning, sunshine."

Sam merely raised an eyebrow in answer before giving a nod, returning again to read, not commenting about his cheerfulness even if he had drank enough yesterday for him to be at least grumpy.

Dean walked towards the pot to help himself some coffee so he could wake up completely, but to his great dismay he found the jar empty. A few drops, not even enough to fill half cup, were resting at the bottom.

“Hey! At least you could have left me some coffee!"

Sam didn’t bother with looking at him, that fucking—

"Next time wake early, jerk."

"Oh, you’re so getting it, you bitch," Dean replied as he poured some water into the coffeemaker, not bothering to change the filler. His good mood was already fading anyways.

Before he could sit on the chair next to his brother and wait for his coffee to be ready, they both heard a knock coming from the front door. No one moved as Bobby's footsteps followed the sound next.

"So… any hunt?"

His brother’s eyes were still on the paper. "Well, there were a few weird murders in Minnesota. Their eyes were burned out."

"Sounds like angels." Dean shrugged. Maybe that entire thing about Chuck being God was really just a dream because, hell, he said he was going to fix the problem with angels, right? This wasn’t ‘fixing it’.

"Dean! Move yer ass back over here!" Bobby shouted from the door. Dean would have rolled his eyes and reply something about the man’s age but he didn’t. There was something weird in the older hunter’s tone that made him move cautiously towards the door, Sam following close behind.

When Bobby’s form came into sight, they saw the motion of precaution he gave them behind his back with three fingers, making sure that whoever was at the other side couldn’t see it.

‘ _Be ready_ ,’ it say.

Bobby moved away to give them a clear view of the door, pointing with his finger to a kid of maybe 7 or 8 years old with big green eyes and short black hair. The boy looked directly at Dean with a stoic expression that seemed strange on a kid of his age, but at the same time was oddly fitting on him.

"Are you Dean Winchester?"

Sam looked between him and the kid before returning his gaze towards the other hunter. "Bobby, what's going on?"

"This kid here asked if I was the idjt of your brother."

"Dean Winchester will take care of me," the boy said while keeping his eyes on Dean. He tilted his head and Dean could have swear that he saw a hint of glow around him. And _crap_ , it wasn't a dream. "You are Dean Winchester, aren't you?"

Bobby and Sam were still looking at the kid suspiciously. Sam’s hand had the demon killing knife, but it was almost forgotten between his fingers; he wouldn’t kill a kid if he could avoid it so his brother was reaching for the holy water he always kept inside his pocket.

Dean couldn’t blame his brother, considering his demon problem and how definitely not-human the kid looked. Dean needed to stop him; Injuring God’s kid wasn’t going to get them brownie points.

"You’re Michael?" he said, the kid looking weirdly pleased at the recognition. Sam stopped moving.

There was a part of him, a tiny very little one that kept saying _, Fuck, please be a random kid._ But it was easy to ignore and Dean knew better.

“Yes, that’s my name.”

Dean thought that the flash of a small smile on the boy's face was part of his imagination as it lasted so little before completely disappearing. The kid looked down and pulled a letter out of his pants pocket. It looked expensive, the kind he guessed royalty must have used back when phones weren’t even a dream.

Bobby looked at Dean, frowning, but he relaxed slightly when Dean nodded in reassurance. Though he could still see the flask in his hand. Understandable considering they weren't on good terms with demons ever since they ruined their plan of alliance with Cas to open the gates of Purgatory.

"Dean, what's going on?" Sam whispered, while the boy still held out the letter for Dean to take.

Dean ignored his brother as he took it between his fingers and opened it, a curious tingling passing through his fingers as he touched the paper with the words 'Alimony’ and ‘Good Luck' written in gold letters next to a black credit card. He turned his gaze towards the ex-archangel who once wore Adam's body and tried to do the same with him; the archangel who now was just a human. A kid. _Shit_. He never bothered to ask Chuck what age his kids were going to have when he dumped them on him. He should have guessed it would be as kids because there was no way for him to send them as adults. Grownups acting like Cas once did when they met would look weird.

“So, are you hungry, kiddo?"

"Dean..."

He gave Sam the 'I'll explain later' look at his weird warning tone, hoping it will work. His brother annoyance grew but he didn’t add anything else. So he was going to count it as a win.

"I don't understand."

Michael narrowed his eyes in confusion looking from one brother to the other until his gaze settled on his. And right, first time as a human and all that. How do you explain hunger to someone who had never dealt with it?

"Y'know,” he started, looking at Sam for guidance, “your tummy makes some funny noises and it hurts a little."

"Is it normal?"

"Well, yeah, and you need to eat food so it won't hurt. You will get ill otherwise."

"I don't want to get ill," he said eventually after mulling his words.

"Good! Then we should eat breakfast, and, uh... Take my hand. I'll take you to the kitchen."

The kid didn’t answered but he nodded, taking his too between own It was weird, even more when the moment they held hands Dean felt a spark of electricity running up the whole length of his arm. Dean’s breath gave a sharp intake and he looked down at their locked hands, wanting to take it away, but Michael just tightened his grip and glanced up at Dean with wide, innocent eyes.

"Food?"

After the moment of surprise passed, the spark he felt turned into something slightly pleasing. It felt like the warmth of what he guessed was Chuck’s grace when they were on Limbo, but there was a hint of something else that reminded him of the first moment he met Michael in that room with his brother injured and Anna burnt. He felt that power in the air that time though.

Didn’t Chuck tell him that they were going to be without powers?

They all went to the kitchen and sat down, Dean helping Michael on his seat before he poured some more coffee to everyone (Because he wasn’t a bitch like Sam who didn’t prepare more after serving the last cup to himself) and then turned to make pancakes, using that time to think in the questions he wanted to ask Michael.

"So...Do you like pancakes?" Dean started with an innocent one.

"I don't remember trying them before."

Sam tried to not squint at the kid too much, or at least to not make it noticeable, but he was at the kid's side so it was hard to not notice it whenever he did it. Bobby was in front of them with a glass of whisky so it was easier for him to glance at the boy suspiciously. Dean thought they were all paranoid bastards.

And again, understandable.

"Dean, I know you've done some, uh," Sam looked at the kid. "'crazy things before and have had your fun with many ‘friends’. Please tell me this is your—"

Dean glared at Sam, who merely held up a hand in surrender.

"So, kiddo, tell me what has your father told you about me."

"He said he will be very busy for a while and that you will take care of me in the meantime," he said studying the fork between his fingers. "He wanted me to be good and listen to what my elders said."

"Elders, you say?" Dean snorted. An archangel with many eons of life saying that was way too funny.

"So nothing about me? How we met? Do you even know what's your Dad doing or what's his business? Why he just left you to the care of someone you don't know?"

Michael seemed to grow annoyed at being asked too many questions at once, though no one would have really notice as the little hint of a wrinkle between his brows was the only clue. "Why I need to answer you?"

Dean thought about it, perhaps not expecting to be questioned. "Well, because your dad told you to be good and to listen to the grown-ups and I'm a grown-up. In fact, I’m the one who will take care of you so better to get to know you. "

Sam chocked with his coffee, his eyebrows rising in surprise. He couldn’t see Bobby’s face because of his position but he could also hear the older hunter coughing.

"Well, you and your brother hunt bad things, and he knows of you since a lot time ago, I’m sure. My Father is... very important and you're his friend. You must be important too."

Dean placed the plate of pancakes in front of him, stopping himself from pondering about Michael’s lack of confidence on some answers. He didn’t need to throw a glance at his brother to know that he was glaring a hole at his head. Any other day he’d have tell his brother everything about his dream, but the memory of an empty coffee jar was still fresh on his mind and there was a kid looking at the pancakes with morbid curiosity and that was just sad.

Dean tried to teach the kid how to use the fork for himself as it was easy for Dean if he thought of him as just a kid. However, before Michael could put a piece of pancake inside his mouth, Castiel appeared in the room with the sound of fluttering wings behind, a confused look on his face.

"Father has returned," he said, barely finishing the sentence before Balthazar appeared too, next to him.

"Did you tell them the big news yet?" the stupid angel leaning on the table said and there were few times in which Dean had been truly surprised at something. The memory of fairies came into his mind, but he shrugged it off as he didn’t think any of his previous surprises would ever win the one he felt in that moment.

Dean wasn't that surprised to see Castiel, who was always busy lately; nor the supposed big news he already got from the chief Himself and neither the British-with-no-style angel appearing as Castiel had said he was going to talk with him about his 'ex-plan' and they seemed okay that day he saw them together. Well, they weren’t exactly okay. At first, Balthazar was angry and he disappeared for days without saying anything. They didn't see a hair of him for two weeks and in that time Castiel had been a little gloomy, but Dean knew that both of them would sort out their differences; they were brothers after all.

So no, that didn't surprise him at all. What did surprise him though, was that he could see clearly both angels' wings and he couldn't tear his eyes off the marvelous sight in front of him. Jaded, bird like appendages behind each glowing angel with a hint of a head that wasn’t human at all, but in the next blink it disappeared and became the vessel’s face again, only the wings remaining.

From the corner of his eye he saw Bobby taking a huge swig from the bottle while Sam's mouth moved slowly, unable to utter a sound.

So they could also see them.

"That surprised of seeing me here? Me and Cassie have had worse fights, you know. And with Dad back in the house cleaning, everything’s becoming calmer. For us, at least."

His wings bristled up from annoyance, puffing slightly. They weren’t exactly feather what formed them but Dean had to admit, they were beautiful. Balthazar’s were a large darker cream with amazing patterns at the tip accompanied with an unnatural glow, each wing looking really soft as if made of the most expensive silk. But yet looked strong and sharp—deadly. And side of how cheesy it sounded there were really no words that could describe them aside from magnificent or wonderful.

And was he really complimenting angel's wings? Well, it wasn't like he would admit it out loud to anyone anyways. Or ever, but still.

Apparently the movement of Balthazar’s annoyed wings at the continued silence was enough time for Sam to process what he was seeing.

"Your wings,” he whispered, mouth clearly dry, “I can see them."

And okay, perhaps not the most intelligent comment that’s came his brother, but hey, it was hard to process any information when one’s eyes look art true divinity made from. Really, really hard.

"Ya' too? I was already thinking that that idjt put something in my drink.”

"Well, bullocks.”

Both angels had surprise written clear on their faces. Castiel turned his head towards Dean, wings shifting in something resembling embarrassment.

"You too?" he asked. It was like he already knew the answer but just wanted to hear a confirmation.

"Yeah... uh, yours look more bad-ass than Balthazar's if it helps." And indeed they were, the combination of ebony with those blue flashes looked awesome; they were like the night sky, a bit skinny in comparison to Balthazar's, but they were clearly made for speed. They looked more on the ruffled side, similar to Castiel’s perpetual bed hair but they were still awesome.

"Sorry that my wings didn't spend too much him on hell to look like that, sweetheart."

Sam ignored the comment but Dean Dave it to discuss player with the angel.

“How is it even possible anyways? I mean, with all that's happened, Heaven doesn’t have a good opinion of us and it can't be because of our great faith or something."

"It could be because of Father's return. A gift of sorts."

Castiel's words made Dean see the big picture and with a yelp coming from Michael, Dean linked everything. The wings, the favor he accepted and Michael sitting there confirming that his dream really happened.

He blinked and looked at the kid whose hands were rubbing his mouth. Dean sighed, suddenly feeling really tired.

“Be careful. You don't need to bite the fork, that's not food."

"It hurts,” he commented, annoyed.

Big brother instincts took control of him as he ruffled the kid's hair while moving close to him. "Hey, it's okay. See?" He grabbed the fork and with some pancakes in it, put it inside his own mouth, making sure to exaggerate each bite. 

Michael frowned as he tried to grab the fork. "They are mine,” he said.

Dean let it go but once the fork was on the kid’s palm again he looked up at Dean before looking down. "You can have some of you want to."

"Don't worry kiddo, I will make some more. Eat yours."

"So... while I was gone Dean managed to become a Dad? Can't say I didn't see that coming with all the women he used to get laid, but it's still surprising I guess,” Balthazar said with a glass of wine in hand.

"Hey! I always make sure I’m protected."

"Who is this, Dean?"

"What happen to your wings?" Dean asked instead of answering, noting Castiel’s wings were not in sight anymore.

"They are hidden. Little Cassie here seems to be a little embarrassed to show them." Balthazar chuckled, ignoring his brother’s glare. "You see, some of us can't show emotions clearly while being in a vessel, but our wings show it very well.”

“What about you, then?” Sam asked.

He shrugged, his wings following the same motion. “I'm used to being in a vessel, so it’s the same to me.”

Dean turned to look at his friend. “Cas, we already know you, is not necessary for you—“

“Well, it can be that or the fact that little Cassie didn't want to make you feel guilty for how destroyed they look now. After all they’re like that because of his trip to hell to rescue your soul."

And now Dean felt bad. Thank you Balth, very fucking much.

"Look, buddy..."

Cas glared at him, not letting him finish. "It's not your fault, Dean. You don't need to apologize."

The hunter sighed in resignation. Then he saw how Balthazar was changing the color of his wings when Sam approached them. Show off.

"They are really amazing, Balthazar."

The angel winked. "And very sensitive too. If you know what I mean."

Dean couldn’t help but scrunch his nose in disgust. "Gross. Way to ruin the moment, Balth."

"Our wings are the most pure reflection of our emotions and personality. You shouldn't talk about them like that," Cass said with a frown clearly directed at the other angel.

"Looks like someone needs to get laid... And you know we can also use our wings to do it with other angels, right?"

"That doesn't mean that they don’t deserve to be treated with respect."

"They are part of my body and I can do with them whatever I want," Balthazar said clearly with the pure intention to annoy Castiel.

"Do it with other—The hell? And better don't occur you idjts fight inside my kitchen. Don't wanna clean up any blood."

"I mean the horizontal tango angel version."

"Angels can have sex between each other? I  don’t know if that’s kinky or not but sweet. I thought you were supposed to be pure and all that bullshit?" Dean turned to Castiel. "Hey, how is it then that you were panicking in that brothel saying that angels don't do that kind of thing?"

The others turned to look at said angel with confused and bemused expressions.

"We merge with another angel, we do not have sex. Is not something physical like human intercourse. We join our graces so it’s more spiritual in nature. And I didn't say that, I said that the place itself was a den of inequity." Cass answered with a slight pink of a blush creeping up his neck.

"Bullocks and you know it! Besides, it's really good to combine both. I personally like my wings being bitten."

"Dude, again: gross. I don't wanna hear about your angel sex life."

"What is sex?" Michael asked eating his last piece of pancake. Everyone turned towards the kid. Sam was the one moving closer to him to say, "You don't need to know that right now, you're too young."

Michael frowned at his brother, then looked at Dean.

"Sorry, kiddo. But it's just a grownups thing."

Dean hurried, not wanting to enter in the embarrassing topic of 'birds and bees'. A subject that definitely should be left for parents and most definitely for later. Dean already had to be the one to share that knowledge with his brother; he didn’t want a repeat.

"So back to topic. Who is this kid? His soul seems a little weird.”

"I am curious as well." Cass agreed with his brother.

And just now both of them have to agree on something. It had to be the famous Winchester luck overworking.

Dean ran his hand through his hair, looking around for something to delay that specific conversation. There was nothing though. "Okay, okay. I think I know why we can see wings. You can see it too, right kiddo? Those things behind the man with no style."

"Well excuse me, you—!"

"Yes, I can. And thanks for the pancakes. They were very deli…” The kid yawned, surprisingly more Dean than himself. "What does that mean?"

"Eh, that you're tired, I guess? You need to sleep."

"Why?" Michael's little face churned up in thought as if the information was just coming to him. Then after a second he added, "Where?"

"It's a thing of being human. Your body needs it. Somewhere comfortable will be great, then you will be fine again."

Dean rubbed the back of his head, hoping the kid will keep talking so he could escape the questions everyone around him seemed to have. But the kid seemed to be thinking very hard and wasn’t speaking. Dean was already ready to call it a loss and just face the music when Michael put himself off the chair. Dean was ready to stand too, grateful for the distraction, but the child was already climbing onto his lap. Dean grabbed his hand to help him. He could feel that electric spark where their skin made contact and he ignored it for the time being, composing to help the kid instead into getting a more comfortable position with his head on his chest, the same way he used to put Sam when he got nightmares.

“Like this?" Michael asked softly, "It's comfortable. Father used to do it, I think."

"Can you, uh, remember?"

He knew his voice came up a little awkward but well, it was weird knowing that the friggin Archangel Michael was on his lap. "No, I can’t remember much. But I think he used to do it." He looked up at Dean. "Right?"

"Yeah, it looks like a father thing."

Not that he knew, he didn’t remember his dad doing that, but it seemed to satisfy Michael because he was already closing his eyes. Then two fingers came and the kid slumped in his place. Dean followed the fingers to find an annoyed Balthazar.

"I know how lovely this all seems, but you were saying?"

 _Damn_.

"Right. Well the, uh, father of this kid asked me if I could take care of his sons. And I said yes."

Dean grabbed the letter showing them what was inside. The angel took a peek and grinned.

"Black card? Sweet."

"Wait, wait. I don't understand. Kids, really? It's not something to take so easy, Dean. And who is this guy? You don't have friends."

"Hey! I do have friends!"

"Who knows about hunts? And Bobby doesn't count. All our friends are dead, Dean, so who is it?"

"Ouch. Well, that was cruel and didn’t come from me. And here I thought that Sammy-boy had his soul again."

"I don't understand. You can see souls too. Can’t you see that Sam already has—” Castiel stopped himself to huff a breath and with a smile he said "It's sarcasm, isn't it?"

"Hush, you two and let me finish explaining." Michael seemed asleep, but he was wiggling a little because of the noise. Dean started to rub his back gently.

"I do think you are very capable of raising children, Dean.”

"Thank you, Cas. Finally someone that doesn't think this is crazy."

"I didn't say that, Dean. I only pointed out a fact. You have been taking care of Sam ever since you were four years old. You have experience dealing with a child."

"Yeah, yeah. You have an unhealthy co-dependent relationship, we all know that. What I want to know is what the problem with his soul is?"

"His soul? We are humans, you know. We can't see what’s wrong. Could you explain it to us?" Sam asked going full-blown research geek mode on them. Sam didn’t bother to hide his snort.

"It seems faint, like there is something missing and it has a strange color... more whiter, I think but doesn't shine like a normal soul. It has a behavior I haven't seen before; like it wasn't a soul." Castiel was tentatively walking closer while his brother poured wine in a glass, not moving from his spot but seeming interested all the same.

"A monster then? Did you make some deal, son?" Bobby asked levelling Dean with a hard look.

"I'll make it easy and fast. Like taking a Band-Aid, okay? First: I couldn't refuse." He held up a hand to stop Sam from interrupting him. "The kid's name is Michael and he's human. For now. He doesn't have any memory of who he really was."

He took a deep breath, wishing Chuck would have waited a couple of days. Or at least let him enjoy his coffee before dumping his kid. "And I couldn't refuse because it's a tiny bit difficult to say no to his dad, y'know." When Sam tried to talk again he added quickly. "He’s _The_ archangel Michael, Sam.”


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "He said, and I quote: 'They will come to you in the same order they came to me', so it seems the number will be growing. And if I remember well the order, the next one is Lucifer." Dean looked at Bobby with what seemed an apologetic face. "Sorry for not asking you first; it would only be a couple days. I think we can buy a house with that credit card."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Give me love~ and comments~ Kudos, too~  
> Ugh. I'm so needy.

**Arc I: Who is like God**

**Chapter 2**

"The archangel Michael,” Dean said not giving them anything to lessen the blow. There weren’t even subtle hints to make it easier to process the information. Sam turned his surprised gaze to the kid sleeping on his brother's lap, one hand grabbing tightly of Dean’s shirt. That kid was really the archangel? The same who tried to use Dean as a meat suit and because of his denying he used the step-brother he never got to meet but was still family, Adam, instead? That archangel Michael?

"And you are okay with this? After all he did?" he whispered, feeling his heart pounding faster, betrayal and rage coiling inside his veins. He realized of the words human-Michael said before. Dean and his father make some kind of deal. A deal with God? "You didn't make a deal, did you?"

"Uh, no. He asked me favor."

"God? Our Father? A favor from a human? Yeah, right." Balthazar rolled his eyes taking a sip from his glass. "What else? Did He also ask you to be Jesus junior?"

"What does Jesus has to do with Dean?" Castiel asked totally oblivious of how fucked up the situation was. Didn’t he remember that it was that same archangel he once threw a Molotov at? It didn’t seem like it as he tilted his head, looking at Dean with some kind of curious expression. "What did you talk with Father?"

"Y'know, stuff. Well, he did tell me why humans are on earth and..." Dean seemed a little nervous, avoiding looking to the angels. That was odd considering the stare contests he used to have with Cas. "Anyways, he would be busy reviving angels and teach them how not to be dicks, some of free will, emotions and that so the archangels would be the ones to take care of the other angels and creation after Big-Daddy next retirement. That’s why they need to learn faster all that stuff and what better way of doing it than turn them into humans, right? The fastest and hard way" Dean snorted at the end, his head hanging on the back of the chair. He didn't seem to notice how every time Michael moved he would start rubbing his back again, like it was something he did dozens of times. And it probably was. "They wouldn't remember anything in the beginning but eventually their memories will come back and the Honcho asked me if we could take care of them for a while. And believe me, it's very difficult to refuse Him something when He's making you compliments, that tricky bastard."

"You said 'they' but there is only Michael here,” Castiel said taking a step closer to where Dean was, clearly thee only one taking the lead of the questions; the only one not as shocked. 

"He said, and I quote: 'They will come to you in the same order they came to me', so it seems the number will be growing. And if I remember well the order, the next one is Lucifer." Dean looked at Bobby with what seemed an apologetic face. "Sorry for not asking you first; it would only be a couple days. I think we can buy a house with that credit card."

"Damn idjt. This is your home too, yours and Sam's. You're seriously wrong if you think I would let you two alone with this. It's better to be close so you don't do something stupid, _again._ "

"Thanks, Bobby."

Sam smiled and even if he didn’t speak, he still nodded at the hunter’s direction. He knew since long time ago that even if they were Dad's soldiers living around in creepy motel rooms, hunting; he and Dean will always have a home with Bobby’s.

"Okay, don t want to interrupt the Hallmark moment, but we don't have much time and now I'm curious. When they will have their grace returned?"

Dean shrugged. "Dunno, He said He will know when they were ready. And why are you here, anyways?"

"I came to see your monkey faces when you boys heard the news, but now I know some good gossip." He winked before taking another sip from his glass and making a long, suffering, and very dramatic sigh "Also, we are waiting for our turn to know where we are going to be reassigned."

"Reassigned? What do you mean?" his brother asked but Sam was already thinking if that meant the angels would be soldiers again.

"Well, big boy, there was an announcement a while back and I think you can image who was the one giving it.”

"I noticed the grace and voices of my dead siblings again on the ‘angel radio’, as you call it. I heard Balthazar trying to contact me and I went to where he was immediately," Castiel said looking at the second angel. "He cut himself from Heaven but still had some contacts in there. I only had the whispering to guide myself so I went to Balthazar and he confirmed what was happening."

"You cut yourself from Heaven?" Dean asked Balthazar while eating cold pancakes with his free hand.

"Did your mom let you fall from your crib when you were a baby? Maybe you don't remember this, but I stole some things from the armor on Heaven and little Cassie here killed lots of our brothers and also Raphael recently. He’s not in the top ten list of the more beloved sibling."

"Wait. Raphael is already dead? Why didn’t you tell us that?” Dean asked.

"I was weak and even with the objects Balthazar stole I couldn’t heal myself quickly enough. Then God gave an announcement and his grace shown on every one of us. I was healed then. I'm sorry for not running to give you the news," Cas said with a harsh tone.

Trying to light the mood Sam tried to change the topic. “So, what said God in that announcement? And are you sure it was from God?"

"We were created by Him, we know how his grace feels even if we've never been honored with His presence.”

"True. It’s a very distinct feeling the one you get when he speaks. Completely different from the time He used Gabriel as mouthpiece. And Dad dearest first apologized with us for His absence and said that our questions will be answered to us, personally. One by one. He will speak with us to do that explaining thing, apparently,” Balthazar said waving his hand with every sentence. "And let me tell you something, boys. We are no a few. We are a lot and even more now that all angels were resurrected. He first started speaking with The Council and now He is talking with the seraphs."

"We're forbidden to kill each other and all of us can return to Heaven, that’s what Father said. And because when God makes an announcement all angels return home, we did the same."

"Lucky for you He gave those orders. A lot of angels, mostly Raphael’s faction, are pissed."

Dean threw a glare at Balthazar that clearly said ‘shut up’. "So why are you here then? Already broking the laws, guys?"

"It's not a law but a sign of respect to wait in Heaven until His word is finished, monkey. Well that and we also like to feel the presence of Dad. It's been a while since the last time we felt Heaven like this, you know" Dean seemed a little uncomfortable with something and he just glared at his plate like there was something important there, not caring of Michael's head resting on the crook of his neck. Sam knew really well his brother and knew when something wasn't right, but if he didn't want to talk about it, Sam will have to wait until he was ready. And his brother could be very stubborn when he wanted.

However, Balthazar didn't know Dean’s tells so he ignored his brother's actions and continued talking.

"Though just now He said it was no necessary for us to be waiting on the garden if we don't want to. We all have our own separate part of Heaven, so most angels went there. Cass wanted to tell you guys the big news and I tagged along."

Sam frowned, trying to remember the last time they saw Car. "How long you were there?"

"In human time it's been a week, Sam.”

"Human time? Now that you said it, we never asked you the time difference between Heaven and Earth."

"Well, as you sure know, in Hell the time prolongs. In Heaven we follow the same principle but the gap is not as long. A week on Earth is like a month upstairs, if I’m not wrong. Or perhaps do you want the exact difference with all and formula?"

"It's fine with me just knowing that, Balth," Dean interrupted. "If you want to go all nerdy, please go to other place"

Balthazar seemed ready to retort but stopped himself as he tilted his head, looking slightly off, like he was hearing something no one could hear.

"Well, it seems my time has come. Dad’s calling. But first.” In a second a phone appeared from nowhere in his hand. He took a picture of a surprised Dean with a sleeping Michael on his lap, before adding, "This will come handy sometime."

The second those words let his mouth his wings were already at his maximum length, making the humans in the room gasp. He was most likely preparing for a flight and it was breathtaking.

In a blink he was gone.

"That was..."

Sam couldn't think of a word to describe how he felt, but he did notice that the warm emanating from him was gone.

"Awesome. That's the word you're looking for, Sammy."

"Don't think I'm not still mad at you, Dean," Sam said looking at the hand that was still rubbing the ex-archangel’s back. He noticed Dean turning self-conscious and stopping. Getting Michael in another position, a better position to best ignore Sam's glare.

"Uh, I think it'll be better if I take him to one of the spare rooms. Bobby?"

Both hunters turned to the elder's one, who with a deep sigh stood up, bottle in hand and said: "Come on, boy. That bed won't arrange itself. And better be preparing some better explaining after you finish with that." He took some blankets from the closet and they headed upstairs, Dean walking quietly behind with the kid in his arms.

Castiel was taking the plates and putting them in the sink, a look of deep thought on his face.

"Are you okay with this, Cas?"

"I'm curious of what Father told Dean, but I did notice how he didn't want to talk about it. I don't know if it was because of Balthazar or not, but I want to know what he has to say. If it is no problem with you Sam, I want to stay for a while.”

He looked directly at him without blinking, making wonder once again how Dean could stare at him without turn away.

"Of course, Cas. You're also family to us."

Caramel nodded, a small smile making appearance. He waved a hand.

"The dishes are cleaned. Is there something else I can help with in the meantime?"

Sam sighed. This is going to be an exhausting day, he knew. But as a Winchester, he already was growing used to them.

* * *

**Balthazar**

* * *

 

He knelt the second he was in the throne room, bowing deeply, not daring to look up. God was there, really there. On Heaven. What did He think of all the things Balthazar had done? He 'borrowed' from the armory His weapons, after all. Will Balthazar be punished for his actions? For running away? For hiding? It was something a real warrior of God certainly wouldn't—couldn’t do.

Reality only sank in then when the white pristine floor was the only thing he was able to see and he felt God's presence so clearly, it was intoxicating. The warmth. The love. The power.

Balthazar trembled, scared, because he wasn’t sorry for his actions. Not even a little. If he could go back in time to re-do everything, he’d do the same without blinking twice. And if he knew that, Father would know too. He didn’t want to die.

"Balthazar,” Father started and the angel’s wings stiffened in place in a feeble attempt of stopping the shaking his appendages were doing in that moment He said his name.

"Balthazar," He repeated, His tone softer this time. "Don't be afraid, my child. I won't punish you. Look at me, son"

And Balthazar did what he was told, seeing the form of his Father for the first time. He took a vessel, a human one, but he ignored it to look at what was hidden within. And then tears welled up in the eyes of his vessel. The body didn’t seem to know how to react to what he was seeing. The warmth of His grace was so comforting, he just wanted to curl against Him and be at His side forever and do whatever He wanted. Balthazar didn't realize how much he missed Him, how important He was until then.

Balthazar wept because he loved his Father. That's how they were made and what they only knew, but seeing his Father in front of him made him realize how strong that love really was. They always loved Him; it was in their nature and he couldn’t fight it. He was so beautiful and powerful and—And Balthazar needed a moment to not let himself blind by His image. He concentrated in the human visage and raised an eyebrow. Not because of the fact his Father was wearing a human, but for the clothes.

He was wearing a simple robe that let the top underneath it shown for everyone. With a pair of underwear that looked like shorts. A stubble framed His face, without hiding the smile He was giving him. Everything looked simple. Everything, but his eyes. He could see the wisdom in them and the universes worth of knowledge they hid. So understanding.

"Father... I'm sorry,” he whispered. He lowered his head again. He wasn't sorry for angering the other angels with his actions. He was sorry because of the faith he had lost after the Apocalypse, in the civil war. The insults he made at His name.

"There's no need to apologize, my child. It was my fault you all were suffering, but I’m here now and I’ll answer all you want me to. You deserve it."

Balthazar felt the warmth around his body caressing softly his wings, making him feel like a fledgling again. He looked up at Him and all he felt was calm and love coming from Him. Balthazar sighed in bliss, wanting nothing more than be swallowed in by the warmth of God. But he couldn't get distracted; he needed to know the truth.

Slowly he tried to gain space from His grace and stand, always respectfully. When he couldn't feel His unearthly radiation anymore, his vessel's head became lighter and thinking clearly seemed easier. He still loved his Father, but he was a little mad at Him, too.

He conjured a bottle of wine and took a long sip; the taste calmed him somewhat. Then, taking an unnecessary deep breath he started, "Why, Father? Why did you abandon us? Why did you leave your favorite creations alone?"

"Because if I hadn’t left you would have never grown."

"What do you mean by that?"

"I think you already know, Balthazar. All of your love for me is blind. Because I made you that way without thinking of the possible damages that could cause you. All of you would do anything I ask without question. But you're sentient beings. I want you to love me because you want to, not because I said so."

He could understand His words, but at the same time not. These feeling he had for Him felt like his own and not some programmed instructions that made him feel that way. But again, He was God.

"I’ll always love you, Father,” he resigned to say.

"I know. And I'm proud of you, Balthazar."

_Proud? Of me? A thief? The one who traded the weapons for souls?_

"Oh, no, son. Everyone makes mistakes. Accepting them and what you do after you realized that it was a mistake is what counts. At least for me they do."

"Huh. Bullet dodged then. So what are you going to do now?"

"Well, I wanted you to grow. Though now I realized that you still need some guidance, so I will help you. Going without word, band-aid style as Dean would say, wasn’t the best way. I thought it would give you the chance to make your own choices. I thought with humans stopping the Apocalypse would come, you would realize your mistake. Well, that's what I thought, at least. Now Death is a little mad at me. Dean too."

Crap. Father was rambling; God was nervous. It surprised Balthazar, seeing his Father like that: playing with the ends of his robe, looking at his feet with a sheepish expression. He let out a laugh without thinking. God looked at him with a raised eyebrow and Balthazar just put a hand on top of his mouth to stop the laughter that still coming.

"You look human, Dad," he said after his laugher died out.

"Yeah, spend centuries as a human waiting for the righteous man." He said, waving a hand to stop him from asking. "Sorry, but it's a long story and, well, I don't have much time to tell you. Dean can answer you that later though. He’s already delaying so you’d be on time for that part. Sorry, son."

"That’s okay. So, um... want some wine?"

"Of course."

Balthazar materialized another glass of wine and served Him. He always saw parents with their children just sitting together in the quiet, enjoying each other company and he always wanted to try it. He was glad he managed to do it. It was nice being like this.

“Don’t you like wine?” he asked when Father just stared at his glass instead of drinking it.

"Well, I prefer scotch, but wine is good too."

"Yeah, well this isn’t just wine made by humans. It’s Dionysius’s wine."

He froze. Was it fine to talk about the pagans? Bullocks.

"Don't worry I got used to them. And after all, they are creations of humans, so I kind of like them. Huh. This wine is really great."

"Right... So, it's true about Michael being human?"

"Yes. I asked Dean to take care of my archangels. After all they will be the ones who take my place after I leave."

Balthazar took a larger sip. "Well, can't say I'm surprised."

"Don't be sad. They will take my place, but I will not completely leave. Think about it as a retirement. I'm too old anyways."

"So you will stay on Heaven?"

"Some days. I will be on earth mostly but I will not hide my presence from angels. So if anyone wants to talk, I will be there."

Balthazar looked at those eyes again, afraid of the question he needed to ask. He cleared his throat. "Will I be punished for my actions?"

"Balthazar, I want you to have free will, true. But I also want you to understand the difference between good and bad. I need to punish you, so other angels will know that what you did was wrong. Though I think you will not see it as a punishment as the other angels will."

He scowled at the empty space, even if he knew he deserved it. “So what will it be?”

"You will be cast from Heaven and will protect the children I will send to the Winchesters on Earth until the archangels think that you can return. It’ll be their decision."

"So... I will stay on Earth, then?"

He will miss Heaven, but the place was kind of boring and he liked Earth enough. So it wasn't much of penalty. Although to the other angels, being cast from Heaven will seem as a hard punishment. Not that they’ll know what Balthazar really thought. _Oh, you sneaky bastard._

"Ouch!"

Balthazar yelped as he felt a little pain coming from his wings as if someone just slapped him there.

"Vocabulary, Balthazar."

"Oh, yeah. Sorry."

Well, that was embarrassing.

"You can go now, son."

The warmth of His grace was again surrounding him, but it felt more like a goodbye hug. Balthazar answered it, fully immersed himself in the warmth, enjoying the feeling until he remembered something.

"Wait, Dad. Can I ask you something?"

Better now, because he will not have a chance to return later.

"Of course, Balthazar."

"Why don't send all of the four archangels together?"

The warmth receded as He looked down at him.

"Well, in part it was for the Winchesters to get used to the kids, but I think Dean can explain you that with more detail. Let’s just say it’s a surprise. And I'm sorry, but I also need to talk to the others angels too, so I’ve to go."

"Oh."

God leaned forward to rub his cheek softly.

"It was easier talking with you. I think it was because for your time on Earth. The other angels can be a little more difficult to talk to and I need more time with them. I’m sorry."

Balthazar huffed. "I understand Father."

"Stand up, my child."

Balthazar looked down at himself, not remembering when he had knelt again or when the glass of wine disappeared from his sight, but he did as he was told.

"I hope seeing you later, pops."

That made God chuckle and with a smile He said, "I love you, Balthazar." The warmth caressed him for a last time before it returned to Him. "Thanks for helping the Winchesters. I’ll talk with you later, don’t worry. And—And I’m so sorry, son."

Balthazar wanted to say something but in a blink he was in Bobby's living room again with all the hunters around him and Castiel standing behind Dean. They still seemed to avoid looking at his wings directly without realizing, just focusing on his face.

"I didn't sense you," Castiel said and Balthazar looked at him. Even knowing that Castiel lied to him, he just couldn't hate the little angel. They were close friends after all and he already apologized enough.

"Yeah, well Dad just popped me here. I didn't fly."

He felt Cassie’s grace warming at the mention of their Father.

"You saw Father?"

"Yes."

He materialized a glass of wine ignoring the surprise of a new woman he just noticed, and took a large sip. Then looked at his glass remembering His words and the warmth of His grace, he smiled a little and without giving much thought said, "We drank some wine together.”

"Bet He liked scotch more."

Oh, of course. Dean also talked with him.

"Yeah, He said that, too." Taking his eyes off the glass and looking at Dean, Balthazar added. "Hey, Dean-o. I have a question and Dad said I could ask you."

 


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _Hey, Chuck? Is this some kind of sign? Are you going to tell Cas yourself?_ Dean prayed silently. _Can you really hear my curses? Because I mean them. All of them._

**Arc I: Who is like God**

**Chapter 3**

Dean tried to put Michael in bed but he was grabbing so tightly his shirt with a hand, not letting him go, so he couldn’t. He was pretty strong for a kid, because he was unable to release out of his grip. He sighed, sitting down on one of Bobby's beds. He rubbed gently the kid's back remembering the times Sam gripped at his shirt when they were just kids after he found out about the monster lurking in the dark, afraid something will happen once alone. That gave him an idea though. An embarrassing one, per se but Bobby was away and the others downstairs. So Dean started singing softly 'Hey, Jude' covering him with a blanket.

When the kid started making noises, Dean was worried he would wake up. He rubbed his arm, slowly reaching his hand and continuing until the boy relaxed his grip and slowly let him go. Oddly enough, Dean also felt more calmed after doing that. His shirt was already free from the hand and Michael’s soft whimpers were almost gone.

"Everything is okay. I'm here," he said not entirely conscious of what he was doing. He was recalling the day the monster from Sam's closet tried to attack him. Dean had woke up at the sound of the gunshot and ran to his brother's room to find a dead monster and Sam looking at it with wide eyes and the old gun his father gave him. Not caring of the weapon in his hands, Dean went and hugged his brother when emotion started showing on his face.

 _'Dean, where is Dad?_ ' Sam asked, crying against his chest.

His dad was with another victim but Dean didn’t mention that. _'He'll be here soon, Sammy._ _I'm here. Nothing will happen to you.'_

Dean put Michael in the bed tucking him in. He wasn't really sure why he was doing this. Michael was the one who tried to use him to start the apocalypse and used his brother’s body instead. _Fuck_. He kicked himself mentally for forgetting to ask Chuck about him. For what Death said he was in the cage, but maybe Chuck put him in heaven while retrieving Michael and Lucifer. Although he did day he was weak. Maybe he just could bring Michael out of there and his step brother was still inside the Cage.

"Boy, don't think too hard or your head is going to explode."

He looked over his shoulder to find Bobby who leaning on the doorstep. Pointing his bottle at him, he said, "You're doing a good job there"

Glancing at where he was signaling, Dean realized he was now stroking the kid's hair. He coughed, trying to pass the action as a fluke and grabbed the bottle Bobby was offering. "Yeah, well, I think the Big Brother upstairs did something to me so I could take care of him instead of killing him."

"Son, I know you and I know you wouldn't kill a kid who doesn't even remember what he’s done."

"Hush, old man." He stood and headed to the corridor, motioning the other man to follow. He closed the door behind him and took a sip from the bottle before taking slow steps toward the staircase. "I still think he did something to me. Every time I touch the kid I feel something weird."

"Weird, ye say?"

"Yeah, just in the first contact. Like some kind of electricity in the place I touch."

"Well, ye ain’t looking as if it bothers ye to me. Or is it bad kind of electricity?"

"I don’t know. After the touch I only feel warm, like..."

He stop walking, Bobby turned his head at him.

"Ya’ okay, boy?"

"It felt like God's grace..." The older hunter just raised his eyebrow. "No, I mean I felt it when he talked to me. It’s more weak, but kind of similar?"

"How does God's grace feel then?"

"Like...” He tried to think in way of describe it. “Warmth and pleasant but with an edge that hides so much power. You want to subdue yourself to it, not move from His gaze while wanting to run away. It makes you feel like a kid or maybe an ant, or something less altogether. But at the same time, you fell loved, at peace. It’s as if He looks at your soul, understands everything about you and never judges, He just… _loves_ you. Unconditionally."

He was still on the same spot, eyes unfocussed as he tried to remember the sensation as he talked, a chill wanting to run down his spine. His brain told him to stop thinking about it as it wasn’t meant for a human to understand it. And Dean did exactly that; something told him he would go mad just by remembering so he Dean his head, coughing when he glanced at the face Bobby was giving him.

"Doesn't look bad to me, boy. And I don't know how to help you. There isn't a book about the side effects of taking care of an archangel turned human by God. I can look about fallen angels, but I don't think the case applies here"

"No, don't worry about it, Bobby. Thanks, anyways"

"Sure, boy."

They were already walking down the stair when Dean heard Sam’s voice coming from the study.

"That can't be right, Cass. There are manuscripts about it saying th—"

"Sam, I think I would know. I was there."

They entered the room to see Sam holding a book, trying to show something in there to Cas, who was just frowning at him.

"Could you at least look it?"

The angel just sighed.

"Interrupting something? Maybe we can return when you finish."

"Don't think you can run, boy, there are things you need to tell us,” Bobby said. Then looking at them, he added, "And both of you stop whining. Sam, whatever you're trying to prove I don't think it works if the angel was already there and saw it happen."

"But—“

"I mean it, boy. Both of you are stubborn; no one is going to win here. Now sit already, that I have an ex-archangel upstairs and I wanna know what kind of deal your brother made."

"And again. He asked me a favor. I didn't make a deal, for Christ sake!"

The unimpressed looks he got told him enough of what the others thought about it.

"What did you talk with Father, Dean? I'm curious as well." He avoided Cas look. What could he say anyways? ‘Hey! Your Dad just made you because he needed some help making us, isn’t that just great. Your emotions are just a happy accident.’

"Woah. Okay, it has to be very bad if you lose so quickly in one of your staring contests." Dean glared at his brother, but he really was just delaying. He didn't know how to start so he wanted to wait at least until Chuck called Cas to have the _talk_. After all, Cas was family to him and even if he was an angel, Dean wanted to protect his friend. He would be destroyed knowing the truth after being so damn pleased to know his Dad returned. Or what you can call pleased coming from Cas.

Though, no such luck because Chuck didn’t call Cas.

"Well… What do you wanna know? The Super Dad gave me a black credit card as some kind of alimony. He said it was mostly 'cause he knew Gabe was going to eat a lot of candy so we’re kind of rich right now."

Dean tried to chuckle. The others twitched at his attempt.

"Dean, I know you and you're avoiding something. What it is?" Sam asked, face full of concern. And damn little brothers.

"Don't know what are you talking about, Sammy. It was really just a favor. No blood shared or kiss happened.”

"Jesus Christ." Bobby rolled his eyes while rubbing the bridge of his nose.

"I thought at first you didn't want to talk because of Balthazar’s presence, but it wasn't because of him," Castiel said, walking towards him. "It’s because of me, isn’t it? It has to do with the fact that we're angels, right?”

“Personal space, Cas.”

“Dean, what did my father tell you?"

"It doesn't have anything to do with the favor your Daddy asked me anyways so we can move on into the babysitting topic."

"But it has something to do with me."

Dean stood up, trying to gain some space, but Castiel wasn’t relenting. He followed until they were standing a few inches apart, eyes showing anger. And he was so going to kick Chuck after this because he couldn’t lie to Castiel.

"You don't want to hear it, believe me."

"I'll be the one judging that, Dean."

Dean looked down and laughed hollowly, because how to tell his friend—his best friend— that his Dad thought of them as non-sentient beings, tools, to someone who spent his whole life loving Him. And perhaps they just loved Him because they were made that way.

Dean couldn't see his own expression, but something in his face made Cas lose the anger. He looked calmer, somehow; softer and more human.

"Dean, I'm really old. You don't need to worry for me, I can handle it."

Letting a long sigh escape past his lips, Dean looked upwards, rubbing his face before sitting again on the couch.

"Okay, okay. I'll tell you. It does have to do with why he let the apocalypse to happen, in a way, so we deserve to know."

Bobby gave him a glass with whisky and he drank it in one gulp. The moment the glass hit the table they heard a knock coming from the door. Dean stood in a second.

"I'll go."

"No, boy. You're staying here. I'm going to see who is there. You're not going to escape from this."

Damn. Dean really hoped that maybe it was just some kind of sign from Chuck, letting him know he was going to take charge of the explanations.

 _Hey, Chuck? Is this some kind of sign? Are you going to tell Cas yourself?_ Dean prayed silently. _Can you really hear my curses? Because I mean them. All of them._

Bobby entered the room with Sheriff Mills following behind. And again, no luck coming for him.

"Hello, boys."

Sam stood up, approached her and shook her hand. "Hi Sheriff."

"It's being a while, Sheriff"

Dean didn’t bother standing up, he just waved with a face of a man waiting for his demise. She raised an eyebrow at him but didn’t comment about his attitude aside from asking, "Am I interrupting something here?"

"Of course not. Just the usual, Jody."

She didn’t look at Bobby as he spoke, her eyes were on Cas. Sam was the one explaining.

"Uh, he's Cas. A friend of the family, you could say."

Cas nodded at her direction.

"A friend, you say?"

"A hunter" Dean clarified.

"It seems sheriff Mills has a case for us." Bobby showed them a file. "Bodies with all their blood drained"

"Police friend of mine is in the case and send me a copy of the files asking me my opinion. It seemed like your kind of thing.”

"Vampire?" Dean asked.

"Most likely, but look at the marks, " Sam said giving him some pictures attached to the file. "There are more than one and are really careless to be vampire. See the flesh in the corners of the marks?"

"Rookies. Seems like someone is creating a nest."

"How many victims?"

"Four, so far. They think is some kind of animal, but the most dangerous animal they have in there are deer.”

Dean snorted as he received the file from Sam.

"Hey, if I didn't know you guys and didn't know that there were things out there in the dark I would think it was some kind of animal, too. So don't laugh, my friend is a good cop"

"Sorry, Sheriff.”

"Don't worry, Jody. We're going to take the case"

"Thanks, guys.”

She sighed and gave them a look that was half resigned, half determined. "I know I'm not experimented as you, but I'll like to help you with this. I'm on vacation since yesterday and have some time off. If you want, of course."

"Thinking in changing professions, sheriff?" Dean asked with a smile, returning the pictures back to Sam.

"I can't. I've been the sheriff of this town for a really long time. This town has seen the dead rise, they're aware of what’s outside and I need to know for them so I can help them. They need me."

"That doesn't sound like a no to me.”

Bobby smacked the back of his head. "Watch your tongue, kid. Don't pay attention to that idjt, sheriff"

"Okay, okay. I'm just saying dealing with vampires ain't easy, Sheriff. And less if it's a nest. They look like humans, except for the teeth part. And the only way to kill them is by ripping their head off. Though I guess that if you wanna come it's not a problem to me.

"The same with me. But if what you really want is just information. We can also give it to you; the type of monsters there are, how to identify them, kill them and protect yourself against them. Because the hunter life is not pretty, sheriff. You can get Jill and there won’t be a sheriff in this town to count in.”

Tree was a silence in which Jody and Sam just looked at each other, the former milling through the options presented to her. She nodded once, more to herself than them.

"I'm a cop. I want to help others. That's why I chose this career. I _want_ to help my friend and also others who don't know the truth and are dying because of it. I want to go, Sam.”

"Then we'll leave today."

Dean sighed in relief, maybe it really was some of sign telling him to not tell them. However, the moment Bobby moved his glass to his lips, Balthazar appeared in the middle of the room without the usual sound of wings, startling the sheriff, who gasped, hand reaching for her gun.

"I didn't sense you,” Cass said and that didn't seem to calm her. The resigned expression in the hunters around her did though.

"Yeah, well Dad just pop me here. I didn't fly."

"You talked with Father?" Castiel asked with slightly widened eyes. Dean just hoped Chuck left him some message like 'Don't worry, I'll them.’

"Yes.”

Balthazar materialized a glass of wine ignoring Jody’s surprise at the action. The angel just took a big sip before looking at the glass in deep thought. A few seconds passed before he spoke.

"We drank some wine together."

Dean chuckled at that, remembering Chuck drinking scotch only because it was strong enough to knock him out. Ignoring the looks he was receiving, because it was too fun picturing a God with drinking problems, Dean said, "Bet He liked more scotch.”

"Yeah, He said that, too." Then after looking him for a while, Balthazar smiled. "Hey, Dean-o. I have a question and Dad said I could ask you"

 _He was so going to kick Chuck_.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In Castiel fashion, the angel offered his hand. "Hello, Jody Mills. My name is Castiel, I'm an angel of the Lord."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kudos and comments are gold

**Arc I: Who is like God**

**Chapter 4**

Dean didn’t understand why his luck sucked so much. He could always blame Chuck, but he had been God far less than he lived as a civilian. So it must be something else. First everyone was treating him as if he had just made a deal with the Devil and accusing him of not thinking before accepting. Well, he would be taking care of the devil, but not deal with him. So it wasn't the same. Luckily the sheriff Mills appeared and he thought _‘Hey, maybe Chuck isn’t so much of a dick’_ , but now? Sending his other kid so he could explain him too? If Dean wasn’t searching for a way to kill God right now it was only because Chuck was going to help them with their purgatory and angel problem.

But now, explaining all this crap in front of the sheriff? What the hell was He thinking? Dean was happy that the relationship between Bobby and her was growing. And he really liked the woman. It kind of reminded him of Ellen, thing that actually scared him a little. Even so, he didn’t want to reveal all the crap they were dealing with. Monster were one thing, even demons. Angels and God were in another level.

But now that Balthazar appeared out of thin air, scaring her, they’ll have to explain her because she would want some answers. So explaining that on top of all the questions he was trying to avoid.

Dean rubbed the back of his neck and sighed. He still didn't know how to tell the story of creation, but better get to it. The sooner, the better, right?

He probably should just pull a Chuck and retire.

"What is your question, Balth?"

"Well, Pops said that He would bring the archangels back one by one so you could get used to them—" Sam snorted. The angel just continued ignoring his brother. "—But something is telling me that there is also something else he wanted you to explain that had to do with that deal. Mind to share?"

"Oh, that? Uh, it's because your Daddy doesn't have all His juice, just enough to be upstairs, revive your other dick-brothers and contain the arch-mojo. The archangels have more power, right? So it's more difficult to bring them back and contain their grace, or so Big Cheese says. In the meantime He keeps it in someplace where He can take care of it."

"Why doesn't Father have all His grace?"

Well, at least now Cas didn’t bitch about Dean insulting his family.

"Because he needed to pass as a human, so the old man hid his grace in some places only He had access to. He wants to retire again so he hasn’t grabbed it all."

"Well, He did say that he spent centuries on earth and certainly looked more... human."

Sam looked at Balthazar curiously. "What do you mean by 'more human'?"

"He had some human’s mannerisms."

Did Dean needed to tell them? The truth? Well, God didn't say anything about keeping his identity a secret and He was being kind of an asshole now, so screw it.

"Antics? Like what?" his brother inquired.

Dean took a deep breath to cut in and explain. "Sammy, the big Honcho upstairs really is, uh, Chuck. Remember him? Prophet. Yay high, alcohol problem and always acting as if scared of his own shadow?"

All the looks turned on him again. Even Balthazar’s. Though his was more curious than shocked.

"Chuck Shurley? The prophet?!"

"But—but he was there. All the time…" Cas trailed off, looking a little broken as he clenched his teeth. Dean could see the betrayal in his eyes. Balthazar placed a hand on Cas's shoulder, squeezing it a little.

Dean leaned forward trying to make the angel look at him. "Cas, listen. He didn't know he was your father until He finished writing the battle in the cemetery. And He didn't have enough power to help at that moment."

"Why the amulet didn't work then? Wasn't it supposed to glow when He was near?" Sam, the big nerd, fumed. Probably angry at Chuck too. Because, well, who wouldn’t?

"He was human, man. The only ability he still had was to be able to reborn as a prophet until you and I were born. The perfect vessels for the big fight were supposed to be born together once in a few millennia and he made himself a constant prophet so he would only remember what He really was after the vision of the final fight between Lucifer and Michael. Or after His body died, whichever came first. Death was the one that filled Him in with the last gossip of His sons just to get reborn as a human, again. Wash, rinse and repeat, you know?"

"Why?" Cas asked, hurt written all over his usually stoic face. And Dean understood his friend’s pain. Heck,  Cas suffered even more; the difference between them was that the angel was the one with faith. And realizing that what one believed in wasn’t as one expected, well, that was awfully hard to accept. And Dean knew the feeling all too well.

He was going answer his friend, but Sheriff Mills confused face came into view and Dean stopped, realizing that maybe they spoke already too much. “Cas, I’ll tell you all I know, believe me, but not now.”

When he noticed the glare forming on his friend’s face, Dean signaled the Sheriff, who apparently didn’t like being left out, if her expression was something to go by.

“I think it’s too late for that, Deano.”

"I don't understand. What's happening here, Bobby?" Jody asked and it surprised Dean that he’d forgotten for a minute of her. He didn’t know why Chuck dropped an angel in front of her, bit there must be a motive.

Balthazar regarded her presence for the first time, narrowing his eyes. Probably looking into her soul or some angel thing.

"Listen sweetheart, you have a surprisingly nice soul—"

"Surprisingly?"

"—and I don’t know if you realize that all the people that are surrounding you right now have heavy, weary souls already touched by the supernatural while yours is lighter. In other words, Jody Mills, this is not the place for you."

"Now, Balth. Who gave you the right to—"

"Winchester, I think you know really well what this kind of life does to people. Personally, I really don’t care. I can say that I made a mistake and started talking without realizing that you still had a chance to escape from this, but, well, it was my Father the one who popped me here so, I don't know why, but apparently He wanted you to know what was happening.”

“And what, just because yer dad says something we should do it? He was the one who left, he doesn’t get to order others around. Jody shouldn’t—“

"I can speak for myself, Singer. I'm not some frail child who needs care. I told you; I want to be here." She threw a last glance to Bobby before turning to regard Balthazar suspiciously from head to toe. "I don't know who or what are you, but you don't know me; stop pretending you do.”

"Jody Mills from Sioux Falls, right? You love to help other people and recently have  suffered a couple loses." Balthazar hummed, studying her and probably reading her mind. "Oh… So your husband was killed by your own zombied son days after he returned from the dead. That was caused by the horseman Death, by the way. He just wanted to send a message to Bobby if I'm not mistaken.”

Balthazar levelled her with an expectant look. Jody at first seemed angry at Balthazar’s words, but she took a deep breath and her posture relaxed. She slowly turned to Bobby who averted his eyes, before deciding to just glare at the angel. Balthazar met her glare with a smile, holding his glass high in a mock toast. Castiel pulled at his brother’s wing to make him stop.

"Why didn't you tell me?" Jody asked, her tone stifled, mouth set into a firm, determined line.

Sam was the one who answered her.

"Because if we told you that, you were going to ask why Death wanted to leave a message for Bobby.”

"And why can't I ask 'why' exactly? I think I deserve to know the reason my son ate my husband, don't you think?"

Dean knew that Sam cringed internally at her sharp tone as he did the same and he wasn’t looking as guilty as his little brother totally did. He shot him a helpless look before continuing, "Sometimes it's better not to know. You're not a hunter like us, sheriff. We’ve seen too much of this crap for our own good and even if we tried to have some normality on our own, the old life would come to hunt us down in the end, believe me I know. We can take you to little hunts so that you can learn how to protect yourself and others, but you still have Faith and a chance to go back. A lot of us would kill for that chance. You can just call us whenever you need help with something strange."

"After what I have seen do you think I can really turn a blind eye and not help? Maybe I haven't see a lot like you, Sam, but I’ve seen enough to want to help."

Bobby looked ready to step in and continue with the lecture but Dean knew that if he did, a fight would ensue and he was kinda rotting for them.

Besides, this looked like a good distraction to delay a little more the inevitable.

"Jody, if you really want to know then I will fill you in. Heck! Maybe we will need your help with some mother touch with that friggin kid as you have more experience in your pinky than us in our whole bodies."

"Boys, you really know how to choose women.”

“Not now, Balth.” Dean motioned to Castiel. “How about we start with some introduction. Some real introductions. Jody, met my pal Cas, again. Cas, do the honors.”

In Castiel fashion, the angel offered his hand. "Hello, Jody Mills. My name is Castiel, I'm an angel of the Lord."

Her eyes widened at the word ‘angel’. She sent Dean a bewildered glance, asking for clarification. Dean just nodded when their eyes met.

"And I, mon amour, am Balthazar. Also an angel. And let me tell you that we can easily ruin you humans, if you know what I mean,” he said gently taking and kissing the hand of a very skeptical sheriff.

"Dude, come on." Dean knew they’d have to eventually tell Jody that most angels were dicks and not so pure and shit, glowing wings no whintanding, but still.

"Balthazar, behave. You just returned from seeing our Father."

"Didn't ye say that God was reassigning angels? Why are ye still here, idjt?"

"That hurts, Robert. But yes, I’ve been reassigned and I’m here to let you know the news!” Balthazar let out a dramatic sigh before adding, "Boys, you’re looking at the new archangel's bitch."

Well, they weren’t expecting that. Even Cas had an astonished expression on to face.

"I don't get it. All the archangels are supposed to be human and without memories for now, right? How can you…?” Sam looked at Dean for confirmation.

"Don’t look at me. I only know what the Dad of the year told me, Sammy. And this wasn’t mentioned.”

"Dean, it is our Father you are talking about, be respectful."

"Yeah, let’s see if you are not going to be pissed with Him after I tell you what your Dad said to me."

Jody held up a hand, looking so done with the conversation. "You talked with God?" 

"Well, apparently higher beings with lots of juice like me. Not that I blame them; I’m awesome."

Balthazar snorted. "It’s surprising how you're still alive, with that kind of behaviour towards beings far greater than you. I mean, at least the giant Wookie is respectful."

"Yeah, whatever."

Dean looked at Bobby first for confirmation. He nodded. _Damn_.

"Don't worry, son. I'll fill Jody in with the things she doesn't understand."

"I think it’d be better if I give you a brief summary before Dean starts talking. Then you can ask Bobby for the details.”

Dean grudgingly agreed with his brother. “Yeah, the old man can do his part later.”

"Watch your mouth, son. The gun is still in my pocket."

"Well, then shoot,” Jody said, crossing her arms. “I don’t think I can get more ready than now."

“Okay, so long story short? The apocalypse happened. Started by demons and encouraged by angels. Demons wanted destruction and the angels wanted paradise on Earth or a way to see if that made God return. Dean and I were in the middle of the chessboard without knowing. Both teams wanted our bodies to—”

Dean snorted, the sound stopping Sam for a second. His brother considered his explanation before glaring at him.

“I admit it was a bad choice of words.”

“Though you’ve to admit that maybe that’s what they really needed: getting laid. That way they could lose the stick shoved up their feathery asses. And don't need to worry sheriff, we stopped the big fight before it happened."

“So as I was saying, angels use human bodies as vessels so that way they can walk on earth without killing anyone who glanced at their true form.”

“And we just happen to be the best suits for the prom dance.”

His brother ignored his comment. "As Dean said, we stopped it. However, without Michael to command chaos was ensued; there was a Civil War on Heaven. Ones wanted to restart the apocalypse and others, like Cas, didn’t think destroying humanity was God's will. The downside was that Raphael, the one leading the pro-Apocalypse faction, was an archangel, so powerful comes in that job description. To win, Cas wanted to open the doors of Purgatory and use the souls inside to power himself up and kill the archangel Raphael, so he made a deal of sorts with the current King of Hell. We convinced Cas to stop that plan and look into another solution.”

"Don't worry, Sammy, with the big Honcho upstairs that won't be a problem anymore. I hope. Just FYI, Jodi, God went missing a couple millennia back and has appeared again a couple days ago, from what I got.”

"And when were you planning to tell me that you talked with God, huh? I spent all night with Bobby doing research, you know."

"Dude, chill. I happened last night and I thought it was a weird dream, nothing else. I mean, God asking me to look after his more troublesome kids? Hard to believe that one.”

Jody didn’t look convinced, but she did look as if she needed something to drink. It seemed that Bobby noticed as he gave her the whole bottle. She sighed, completely resigned with her fate. Sam didn’t blame her.

"Okay, now that we are all on the same page, are you going to share Dad’s words? Or is there going to be some break to go to the bathroom and smoke? Because this is getting longer than Lord of the Rings.”

Dean huffed, exasperated. Dread was forming in the pit of his stomach and he couldn’t stop it from spreading.

_Dear Chuck, if you don’t let me punch you, I’ll be really mad at you._

After that quick prayer, Dean took a deep breath before forcing a smile on his lips.

 


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Unggggh~ Kudos~  
> (Can you believe I thought yesterday was Saturday? Oops. Posting today then!   
> Comments are gold!

**Arc I: Who is like God**

**Chapter 5**

 

In the beginning, there was Darkness.

It was the kind that beings have forgotten about or won’t ever get to understand; so full of everything but at the same time empty in a way one couldn’t help but wonder when would it'd get to engulf everything you were and made you as void as the Darkness itself was, because that was what it was - its function. Only powerful beings could shrug it off, and even so, the cold of it always managed to get you not caring of anyone’s prowess. Or so Father told him; Michael hadn't experienced it as it always stayed a distance away from him. And only because God made him that way. Father wanted heat to chase away the Darkness, something to warm and keep Him company as Death preferred to enjoy the Darkness around them instead of socializing. However Father also wanted something to fight It as His first creations, the Leviathans, weren’t able to eat the coldness as He had wanted. When the Leviathans tried to, they couldn't, choosing to adopt characteristics of the Darkness instead. Or at least Its hunger as the Leviathans now wanted to consume whatever they could.

Reality, newly created, was in danger.

So Father created Michael to chase away the cold, making his being as scorching hot as Himself. To complete the second function, he was created a weapon. Father said Michael was to be His Sword, meant to keep away everything trying to put in danger Father's creations and he made him powerful.

"Your name will be 'Like God' as you are going to be like," Father said, making his strength His.

Michael obeyed His words and Creation was successful.

However, no matter how long time passed, Father’s earlier creations, never been seen for anyone other than Death, still lacked something. The reality God was creating lacked something. The Darkness was too strong and Father didn't like it. That was why after so long time pondering, Father created small glittering dots to illuminate the new called Universe; spheres of plasma that continuously tried to take away the edge of the Darkness.

Stars, Father called them. And with one thought they were made—the hydrogen and helium burning in them, trying to be brighter. It was the first time they appeared in Creation, first time Michael saw them. And yet Michael new their name and their composition—how their life would start and end. Short in comparison to his own life span but still beautiful. Or perhaps even more beautiful for how little they lived. Not that it mattered as Michael would still liked them even if he couldn't touch them, encouraging them in their labor, as hopeless as it was.  Michael could only see them from afar as he was too much for them; purer and bigger.

Michael was afraid to burn them if he tried to embrace those bright pieces of debris.

They were weak and Father realized this without Michael tell him about it. Father alone realized He needed something stronger.

And so God said, “Let there be Light.”

And Michael saw how everything became clearer and the shine of Father's new creation increased from a small dot until it was brighter than Michael. The Light was beautiful—powerful as its presence was enough to weaken the Darkness, subduing it.

God called the moment the Light appeared, day. The tamed Darkness was now night. And so, the first day was created. And all the knowledge about it came onto Michael as always but he didn't care; he kept watching the Light.

However, after staying for long moments just staring at Father’s new creation’s beauty, the concept of light, which was still new to him, didn’t seem enough for the bright sentient being.

“How is going to be called?” he asked, knowing that, like him, Father would know a concept wasn’t enough for this being. It needed a Name in the same way he had one.

Father was wise; he understood.

“Morning Star,” God answered. “And from this day, you will be siblings.”

Michael felt which would later be called happiness for the first time. He didn’t understand it, but he enjoyed it nonetheless. 

* * *

 

Michael felt how his mind roused from an abstract plane of consciousness. Lethargy tied him to where he lay even as he sensed himself becoming more aware of his surroundings. It was slightly frightening how his body didn’t seem to answer his commands and his mind’s fogginess didn’t let him think clearly. He felt vulnerable and weak, but also comfortable and warm.

The seconds it took him to blink the tiredness away felt longer, but once again he became aware, taking notice of the soft surface he was laying on. He turned his head slightly to the right and saw Dean was at his side arranging some blankets, green eyes peering curiously down at him.

"Sorry for waking you up, kiddo. You were sleeping in a weird position. Later your back would hurt if you'd stayed like that much longer. Though maybe not; your body is young."

Michael furrowed his eyebrows, confused at the words before the meaning of them came to him. It was then that he realized that the language he spoke in his dream wasn't the same Dean used. Though he understood everything in both.

"You alright, kid?"

"Yes, I am."

"Want to continue sleeping?"

Michael did feel tired but he was slightly afraid of falling sleep. Not because of the unconscious state he was in left him vulnerable to danger, but because waking up felt too bizarre and confusing. He didn’t want to confess that though so he refrained, choosing to say the truth.

"I don't feel myself tired anymore."

"Um, good? Maybe we can go to the mall to buy you some clothes then ‘cause something tells me those are the only ones you have, right?"

Dean tried to smile at him but it came out strained, the motion not able to hide his exhaustion. Even so, Dean tried, and Michael could see that in his soul. It made him want to smile. Though he settled with touching the back of Dean's hand with his own, feeling again the warmth of Michael’s grace react with Dean’s soul. He hoped Dean would feel the same calm that washed over him at the contact.

The hunter squeezed his hand, moving it to a better position to help him stand up to the floor before quickly letting his hand go.

"Let's go downstairs to get ready then,” he said, already a few feet away.

Michael frowned at his back; he hadn’t wanted to let go. The warmth and feeling of security was gone and Michael didn’t like to feel the emptiness that was left in its wake. His grace felt weak. What once burnt with more intensity than any star, was now a fiddle, small thing barely able to warm him. And it worried him. It felt cold and Michael disliked the cold; it reminded him of the Darkness.

Michael ran to Dean’s side, making sure to take his hand again and only relaxing once he sensed the same familiarity he felt around his Father and the light of Lucifer’s grace.

"Uh, so we are feeling clingy today?"

Dean looked a little uncomfortable but Michael noticed how the stiffness in his posture and the invisible weight his shoulders seemed to carry lessened. Perhaps that may be why Dean didn’t object as they kept walking in silence, not stopping until they were at the bottom of the stairs where a big man was leaning.

He looked like the other man his Father told him would help to take care of him.

"I know you are Dean’s brother, however I do not know your name.”

Dean waved dismissively with his free hand.

"He is just my excuse of a brother, Samantha."

"Yeah, no. Don't listen to him. My name is Sam, hi."

The man smiled, looking more sincere than Dean but also more depressed. Michael didn't answered so they were in silence for a while, both men into his own thoughts while Michael inspected them. The man called Sam was looking at Dean with a weird expression for a few seconds before changing into other ones. A quick glance at Dean showed the older Winchester reciprocating with expressions of his own. They kept like that, going back and forth, communicating silently, until whatever that happened ended with Sam’s resigned sigh. Michael didn’t understand, nor did he try to as it seemed personal. So after a couple seconds, he pulled Dean’s hand gently in an attempt to gain his attention. It worked. Dean looked at him with a raised eyebrow.

"Clothes, remember?"

"Oh, right! Wanna come, Sammy? The kid needs some clothes."

There seemed to be going an internal debate inside Sam but a glare from Dean stopped it immediately. "Well, it is a bit early. We can easily buy him clothes before going to—"

"—Visit Jody's friend?"

"Exactly. We should take advantage of the time we have then we can get ready. It’s not as if it would take us too long, anyways."

"Or we can split," a woman said appearing from the kitchen, looking at him with another odd expression. She shook her head and sighed before kneeling in front of him.

"So you're Michael?"

"That is the name my father named me, yes."

She seemed slightly weirded out at his answer but eventually she nodded. “My name’s Jody,” she said before looking at Dean. "I can stay with you if you want."

Quickly walking towards her, Sam made a hand motion. "Don't need to worry, sheriff, you maybe need some time to... process everything. A hunt will do you well.”

"And I told you to not worry about it. I'm off duty, thankfully so existential crisis can wait."

"Off duty?" Michael asked. He knew what those words meant separately, but didn't understand the meaning of the sentence.

"Means that she is not working for now, kiddo. She is on a vacation."

"Okay, kid. It seems that we're going to buy you some nice clothes. Come on.”

She extended her hand to him, but Michael didn’t approach her until Dean he let go of his hand, pushing him a little to move towards Jody. "I'm going behind you, just let me grab my jacket."

He touched Jody's hand, but at the touch he didn't feel anything. Her hand was slightly cold and it felt as if the lack of heat was trying to reach him. Michael pulled his hand away and pressed it against his chest, where his grace was supposed to be, trying to regain what little heat he lost. He wanted to bury his hand through his chest but he couldn’t. He didn’t have the strength.

"What's wrong, Michael?"

"It's not the same," he breathed out with wide, frightened eyes.

"What's not the same, kid? Michael, are you okay?"

She looked blurred and the feeling of emptiness inside him was there again and he wasn’t heat anymore. He didn’t have anything to chase it off.

Jody tried to calm him, placing her palms on his small shoulders but that only managed to tense him. His heartbeat was racing and he couldn't breathe normally—he didn't understand what was happening. 

Michael looked up, not knowing when he had glanced down. Her torso was on his line of sight and he could see her soul. Her soul was a nice one, but it was too big for him. Or was he too small? How could that be? He was one of the oldest creations, wasn’t he? He wasn't supposed to be small. He was fire, made to burn and warm but he felt weak.

Moving his hand away from his chest, Michael looked down at where his grace should be.

It wasn’t there. There was a soul in its place, brighter than normal but still dull in contrast to his own grace. He wasn’t supposed to have one. He wasn’t human—Wait. What were humans? What was he?

His mind was muddled in the same way waking up made it. He knew the answer, of that he was sure, but for some reason it didn’t come to him. He tried to reach the floating thoughts that appeared in flashes in front of him but he couldn’t grasp any as the sound of steps came closer and shadows started to surround him.

"Hey, hey, kid. Look at me. I want you to lie down and breathe with me."

Michael couldn't understand but still tried to follow the orders as something told him that following orders was what he did, something he was good at.

Cold hands left him; warm ones taking its place, one going to his cheek. And there was that connection again. The one reassembling his own grace, so familiar and comfortable like his Father's. Michael grabbed the hand, trying to drawn its heat. It was Dean's hand, he realized.

"I'm here, kiddo. If you can hear me, nod.”

Opening his eyes, he saw green eyes and dusted cheeks. He took one moment to appreciate the warmth of the soul near before Michael repeated Dean’s actions to let him know he understood.

"Good."

He pulled him off the floor with gentle hands and carried him, making sure to rest his head against his chest, where he could hear his heart. In that moment Michael knew that if any other was the one who tried to do that, he wouldn't let them.

"Can you tell me what's wrong? Do you feel better?”

Michael thought deeply of Dean’s whispered questions, trying to come to some conclusion for himself.

"…I was confused when I woke up as I’m not supposed to be like this and I overreacted when you weren’t close, I think,” was his only answer as he didn’t understand what happened either. Now, being close to Dean he could think more clearly. He remembered Father was the one who send him to Earth. He didn’t know what for but he did know he needed to learn something. He looked up at Dean. “I get some sort of detachment around me when you aren’t close, do you know why that is?”

Someone snorted behind them but Dean ignored it as he glanced curiously at him. “I’m sorry, kid, but I don’t know.”

"Only with Dean?" Sam asked.

"Yes. He feels familiar, more solid.” Michael glanced around him, noticing everyone present inside the room. He took a deep breath, feeling weird at needing it, before he looked directly at Dean’s eyes. "You can put me down now."

“More solid? What does that mean?”

“His soul,” Michael clarified, now standing on his own, his hand reaching to take Dean’s. “It feels like my grace.”

Balthazar’s pair of wings twitched, their color slightly duller than the last time he saw them. He made an ‘oh’ sound before he frowned, his eyes going from his form to Dean’s. He nodded absently before saying, "It may be because he’s your vessel, I suppose."

Michael tilted his head in a silent question while Sam stepped forward. Balthazar rolled his eyes and gave a pointed look at Dean.

"Remember when I said that his soul seemed weird and faint? It was because there is something missing. You're his vessel, so you're basically designed to contain his power and only your soul can support his grace. Michael doesn’t have a grace currently so he’s trying to latch from your energy unconsciously."

"And that means…?" Dean trailed off. The angel just sighed, rubbing his face with a hand in a tired gesture.

"Wait, hold on. What you're trying to say is that his, uh, 'soul' is searching the missing part and how Dean was made for him, it thinks that Dean's soul is the missing part or something?"

"Glad to know that someone here got the brains! Yes and no, moose. Is not like Michael is going to eat Dean's soul or something. He just feels more at ease to have something that feels familiar. He's the oldest of us and just took a few vessels. Usually used them for a while, not more than a few days, and no one was his true Vessel like Dean is."

"So I have to be by his side all the time?"

"Or until he gets used to that body."

Balthazar shrugged a wing, ignoring the sick expression forming in Sam’s face. "What about Lucifer? Would I need to be by his side too?"

The name made Michael’s head turn sharply to look at Sam. “Lucifer will come here too?”

"… Do you remember him?"

Him? The Lucifer from his memory wasn't a man. However, it was also obvious that he wasn’t going to receive all his memories until he learnt whatever lesson he needed and he didn’t know if the people around him knew he was receiving some memories. So would it be wise to tell them? They knew this wasn't his real body and that he was something greater. However currently for them he was now just a weak kid who needed protection.

Michael opened his mouth, not sure what was he going to say before he closed it as a whole tremor went along his spine. He frowned, knowing just by that feeling that he wasn’t going to be able to lie. Nothing stopped him from hiding some things though. He went for half-truth.

"I remembered something while I was sleeping."

"About?"

"I was looking at a star's life ending and there was a light at my side, Lucifer. We were talking.”

"Stars?" Sam asked, his face scrunching curiously. Something told him he was fascinated by the idea but he wasn’t really sure as it was difficult to distinguish one expression from another.

"Yes. A star was about to die to form a black hole or a neutron star, maybe."

"So those were your first memories? The space?" Jody asked.

Michael didn’t mention about the Darkness before space was created, choosing to inspect the woman who minutes ago was comforting him.

"You seem faint," he mumbled curiously. He saw from the corner of his eyes the angel looking for a better position on the couch before appearing a glass with some red liquid inside. His wings were slightly drooping to the ground; still dull, their glow seemly gone. It was difficult to tell the difference between expressions, but just seeing at the wings Michael knew that Balthazar was sad.

"Faint?"

Balthazar forced a smile that didn’t match the light of his grace. "Don't worry, honey. He's just getting used to seeing souls. It's normal."

Michael let go of Dean's hand and moved closer to the couch. He didn't know what he was doing or why, but something inside of him was telling him to be at the side of the angel, his brother. He needed his help.

"You are sad. Why?" he asked, feeling the eyes of everyone on his back, but the only being that was important in that moment was the one sitting in front of him. Michael touched his knee and looked at him directly, frowning.

The angel stiffened at his touch and his smile became a tad strained. "Well, life isn't always easy, boy."

"I know."

He didn't possess his memories, but the words didn't feel like a lie. He wanted to be even closer, so Michael climbed the couch and sat on the lap of the angel with the weird accent, his eyes still fixed on his own. "Life never is easy when you are the one making your own choices, though you can always make it better, Balthazar. Those glimpses of happiness that also come from your decisions make it all worth it."

Michael slowly put his hand in front of a wing to let him know about his intentions and gently brushing the feathers. Accepting the angel’s silence as permission, Michael started stroking the appendage, adjusting the ruffled feathers. A memory wanted to surface, but he only got a flash of grooming golden wings.

Balthazar’s body became stoic and solid as marble, but his grace trembled. So young and small as it separated from his vessel and reached with slow and nervous movements at him, seeking comfort. Michael let him take hold of his weak soul as the trembling became worse and the vessel’s body lost some of its warm.

"It hurts,” he mumbled and the memory became easy to grasp as he remembered those words before. Michael closed his eyes and for a moment he wasn’t small and weak. His body was different; the same from his dream.

_"Just for a while, Balthazar. Your first time shedding feathers always hurt. But_ _can you see this? They are the color of your new feathers and they are really beautiful."_

" _I prefer yours,"_ a younger version of the angel clutching at him said.

The flash just lasted a second, but was enough. The brother in front of him looked broken in comparison of the one from his dream. This one wore a vessel, body rigid but eyes wet and there wasn’t any innocence in him. Something told him it was his fault. Brushing small fingers against Balthazar’s cheek, Michael leaned his brother’s head so it could rest against his chest, using his feeble soul to embrace what he could of his brother. Balthazar’s grace answered as it started surrounding him, making his emotions slightly clearer. There was betrayal and sadness at the forefront, while anger remained faint but still noticeable.

Michael was weak and nothing but a shadow of his former self, but Balthazar still needed someone to lean on and even if he didn’t tell him what was bothering him, Michael was going to help him, because that was his job as older brother.

"Everything is going to be alright, Balthazar."

Balthazar exhaled a small shaky breath. "You don't know that."

"Father loved us. Everyone in the same way. You don't need to worry."

Michael didn't know why he was saying that, but somehow knew that it was the right thing to say and what his brother needed to hear. Balthazar turned his head down, pressing his nose closer to Michael's shoulder, settling one hand on his back while Michael continued stroking the base of his wings.

"Everything is going to be okay, Balthazar. I am here."

Balthazar didn’t seem to care that he couldn’t remember anything clearly, he just held him tighter.

In that moment, everyone was gone and he was alone with Balthazar; his grace and emotions tangled inside him as he consoled the younger angel.


End file.
